


A Patchwork Family: A Soft Blue Shirt

by Lbilover



Series: A Patchwork Family Series [17]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Memories, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 08:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14328189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lbilover/pseuds/Lbilover
Summary: A soft blue shirt brings memories of the past for Sam and Frodo.





	A Patchwork Family: A Soft Blue Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Huan does not appear in this story, and it is a higher rating than most in this verse (i.e., there's hobbit-sex!)

There’s a moment in the rush and roar of desire that consumes them when Sam pulls back and his movements slow and gentle. Fingers that blindly gripped loosen, move with exquisite care. 

Frodo remains supine, breathing hard but patient, as Sam slips smooth wooden buttons free, one by one.

“Sit up,” he directs, and Frodo obliges, allowing Sam to undress him as if he was a child. But it’s no child’s body revealed to the heat of the afternoon sun, and Sam’s gaze burns even hotter wherever it touches Frodo’s pale scarred skin.

Sam gathers the soft blue shirt Frodo was wearing between his hands. He presses his face into it, breathes deeply of lavender and the musky smell of Frodo’s sweat—clean, healthy sweat. He smiles. Then carefully folds the well-worn linen and sets it aside.

“Sam, I never thought to see you sentimental over a shirt,” Frodo remarks, lying back in the lush grass, one arm crooked behind his head. Tension laces his voice; he’s aroused and aching, but pleasure delayed will be all the sweeter when it does come.

“You wore that shirt…” Sam begins, but the thought strays like one of the passing honeybees, drunk on nectar. Frodo’s lissome naked body on a coverlet of emerald green is a powerful distraction.

“…the first time we coupled, in Ithilien.” Smiling, Frodo finishes the sentence for him. 

“We’ve got our bit of Ithilien here and now,” Sam says, and it’s true. They’ve planted great swaths of sage, thyme, marjoram and other herbs whose seeds Sam collected and brought home to the Shire. The air swims with their mingled odours, released by the sun’s warmth. “Ah, but remember how it smelled then.”

“It was like breathing wine, after the foulness of Mordor.”

“Aye, went straight to my head, it did.” An earthier look comes into his eyes as he takes in Frodo, all smooth white satin skin save for his cock, flushed rose-pink and straining against the gentle swell of his belly. “And other places, too, as I recall.”

Frodo laughs softly and ruefully. “You recall rightly, though how you could desire the sight I made then is a wonder to me.”

“Angling for compliments are you, Frodo Baggins?” Sam teases. He swiftly undresses, taking little care for his own stained and work-worn garments, and drops down beside him. “Shall I tell you that you were the fairest sight these two poor eyes have ever seen? That to touch you like this,” Sam strokes his callused palm up Frodo’s arm, “and this,” his hand moves along Frodo’s shoulder and then in a long downward sweep, “and this…” he takes Frodo in an intimate grip, “was the greatest joy I’ve ever known?”

Frodo bites his lip against a moan. “Sam…” he grits out, and shifts restlessly towards him. 

Sam releases him and gathers him in, and both gasp as their hard lengths meet and mate in a dance now familiar but never old.

_Every time is like the first time_ , Frodo thinks, and doesn’t realise that he has said the words aloud until Sam, hands and body moving with an assurance that tentative first coupling had lacked, murmurs against his throat, “Only better.”

~end~


End file.
